I Remember
by Metatron85
Summary: Requested by thedrummerthatwrites. Riley and Maya have a dating anniversary. Riley takes a trip down memory lane during those awkward middle school years when they were starting as a couple. Rilaya romance.


**A/N: Request from thedrummerthatwrites; hope you like it. My very first Girl Meets World fic, so bear with me. **

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"Hey!"

The brunette jumped when Maya poked her head into her room through the window.

"You know, you should be used to that by now."

Riley made a look.

"Oh," Maya made a face. "Then I guess a certain sourpuss won't want her dating anniversary present?" She brandished a small box.

There was an awkward pause.

"Relax," Maya sighed. "I paid for it with my own money, it's legit."

"How?"

"Mom would slide me some green when she came home after a particularly generous night in terms of tips. Her wacky idea of giving an allowance."

Riley got a little glassy-eyed. "That's so sweet."

"Do you want it or what?"

"Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!" Riley said.

"What's the magic word?"

"I love you?"

Maya tilted her head, "Actually the magic word was shipoopi, but today "love you" is acceptable."

The blonde handed over the box and Riley eagerly unwrapped it.

"Holy geez!" Riley gasped.

"Oh no, you're cursing" Maya chuckled. "I'm such a _bad influence_."

Riley held up a sterling silver key on a matching chain. "It's beautiful," she commented.

"Here," Maya offered to help put it on.

Once clasped, Riley admired the key.

"Do I have to explain the symbolism of the key?" Maya asked.

Riley shook her head, no. "Hold on, though. I have something for _you_."

"I told you not to get me anything!"

"I know," she smiled.

"No flowers, no cards, no mystery chocolates, no jewelry..."

She held up some papers. "You didn't say anything about a love letter," she teased in a singsong voice.

"Dang it!" Maya huffed.

"Sit," Riley pointed to her bed.

Riley stood up by the window, nervous as all get out.

"I remember..."

She fumbled with her printed pages. She found it easier to get her thoughts out typing than by writing longhand.

But she continued.

"I remember the first time you kissed me on the cheek during recess and the boy who threw dirt at us and called us gross. You zipped his backpack over his head and kneed him into the monkey bars. You got detention. I waited for you."

"Then I really remembered when you kissed me for the first time on the mouth when we were in the back of the bus. Some girl made a comment and you socked her in the face and that got you kicked off the bus. I walked home with you."

"And how could I forget when we began holding hands whenever we could? We were turning a corner in the halls when you caught a kid writing a really bad word for what we were on my locker. You snatched his spray paint, lifted up his shirt and tagged him. That got you suspended for a day but my mom let you hang out all day with her and Auggie when she found out why you got in trouble. Even your mom said it was bull-" Riley cleared her throat. "That it was wrong" she quickly recovered.

"I definitely remembered the Halloween dance we had last year. I was Dorothy and you were the Wicked Witch. And we looked goooood. It was fine at first but then the fast dancing started to turn into slow dancing. There were very few couples on the floor; many of the boys and girls stuck on opposite sides of the wall. But we didn't stand around, did we? We got out there and it was magical."

Riley bit her lip.

"It was until this rude girl spilled fruit punch on my costume. I held you back because she gave a half-hearted apology. But then she muttered something ignorant to her friend and there was no holding you back. It took a little longer than expected to break you two up. They tried to expel you, risking you graduating 8th grade. But my dad was a chaperone and he saw that girl getting punch and laughing with her friend before walking over to me. He stepped up for you because he has grown fond of you like I have."

For a moment, Riley was flustered because she lost her place. There was one more page but she couldn't find it. Then she flipped over the last one and realized she had accidentally printed the other side.

"And why wouldn't he? You're smart, sometimes too smart. You're fearless, sometimes too fearless. But you're also loyal and creative. And your apathy is only so you can save you energy for things you really do care about..."

Maya pulled in Riley for a kiss before she could finish.

After breaking the kiss, Riley said "But there's more."

"Please, don't read anymore" Maya said, leaning her forehead against Riley's. "It was the best letter I've ever gotten. And I should know because I don't get many besides Shawn. But that's different."

"How?"

Maya shrugged, "Well, Shawn writes about places I want to see one day. But when you write, its about a more important place. Home." The blonde girl did her best to hold back her own tears. "Someone like me...are not meant to have a home; people who love them or accept them."

Just like the partners in crime they've always been, Maya and Riley came out together to their families. Maya's mom was passive, her mind on work mostly. But Mr. and Mrs. Matthews were very welcoming and understanding. They also couldn't help but say their _awwww's_ at how cute it was that these two best friends evolved into girlfriends. Mr. Matthews continued to play the protective dad as he would with anyone his daughter would end up dating. However, Maya is one of those few people he signed off on and knew from experience that she would take good care of Riley.

"You really think that you don't deserve all of...this?" Riley asked, indicating the Matthews home. "That you don't deserve...me?"

"That's just how the world works."

Riley wiped Maya's eyes and kissed them.

"This is my world and I will decide who deserves what around here," she smirked.

"Well, let's go Your Highness" Maya took Riley's hand and ran for it. "Your mom is taking us clothes shopping for next month. We are starting high school."

They made it this far and nothing will stop them from going further. Together.


End file.
